It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
A decade's worth of restrained self-owning content? It happened. From the archives of bang bus'ing to the 360p days of MFC and everything in between; This is the nonsense they wanted shelved until the end of time.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
Much like Robocop 1-3, this goes from mildly erotic to fucking horrible pretty darn fast. Tipping point involves a Cambodian that apparently tried to high-five a weed wacker.
Alright fellas, [-take a memo on your Newton-]: If girls aren't flocking to your Levi's like 1 star reviews to the newest Disney remake, then this might be in your future. Just keep track of those subscription fees so reality doesn't hit harder than 1996 did to Robert Downey Jr.
I'm not even phased by empty-calorie diet plan Okinawa constantly subjects me to anymore. What really twists my biscuits is the lack of followup to these videos. idk what monster this T-Virus will turn them into, but we probably don't have enough ammo to kill them.
Never have I seen a man do something so incredibly vile with such charm. Where there's tension, he provides laughter. Where there's pain, he provides comfort. And where there's feces on the tip of his penis... he provides dinner.
Not every one of today's carousel of evolutionary's most gifted were born with the poker face of Clint Eastwood. So when you bare witness to the equivalent of a vaginal SCUD missile, understand it took practice to get here. [more]
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
